28 Shortstops
by Fluffy1984
Summary: That famous 28 insertcharacterhere meme! Decided it'd be kinda fun. Please note that my Shortstop is not to be confused with the other Shortstop some readers may know of. Rated M for a few chapters, better safe than sorry.
1. Dancing

Disclaimer: I'm only saying this once. Transformers belongs to Hasbro! Shortstop, however, is mine. Not to be confused with another Shortstop TF OC I've spotted here, it's pure coincidence they have the same name.

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Music blared from the common room/lounge/recreation hall, a section cleared of tables and chairs to make room for Jazz's Earth culture protege. None of the other new arrivals were so eager to try out almost anything under the sun, nor did any of them excel in one thing right away.

"Aight, turn! Now slide, slide, touch, one two three." Nor did any of his students possess the grace to waltz or Texas Two-Step.

"Am I doing okay?" Shortstop asked the saboteur, fluidly following the shorter mech's lead. Already quite a few Bots stopped to watch the rather funny sight of tall, heavy Shortstop dancing gracefully with shorter, lighter Jazz. Unabashed, Jazz grinned proudly.

"You're doin' great, Shorty." The young bus almost snorted at the ironic nickname. As far as experience and rank went it fit perfectly; Shortstop was dubbed The Rookie immediately after he arrived on Earth. However, it obviously didn't suit his physical appearance. Shortstop stood almost as tall as Optimus Prime himself, with a similar build.

"Now why don't you ever do that for me?" Arx asked Hazmat teasingly, giggling when her bondmate blushed and looked aside without a word. Behind them Springer and Sideswipe snickered, then politely shoved around for a better view. Shortstop instantly noticed two of his closest friends in the Ark and blushed a bright red across his faceplate, stumbling in his steps and nearly pulling Jazz to the floor.

"Whoa, steady!" Jazz cautioned, on the verge of laughing. He turned back at the sound of Sideswipe's laugh and chided, "Quit makin' the poor mech nervous!"

"I didn't do a thing," Sideswipe replied, grinning wider when Shortstop tried to get his rhythm back by counting three beats to himself. Jazz just shook his head, took the young mech's hands, and resumed the dance on the perfect beat. Shortstop more easily fell into step with Jazz's guidance, trying his hardest to ignore the chuckles and the teasing comments thrown his way.

"Sorry," he murmured to Jazz shyly. The older black and white mech smiled understandingly.

"'S just us, man, just us an' the music."


	2. Naive

"Hey, what's that?" Shortstop asked himself, glancing to the forests' edge from his post and zooming in. He refocused his visual cluster, the image of a furry black and white-striped ... rodent? Or was it a squirrel? Jessica once ranted about squirrels and described them. This new animal certainly fit the description better than that of a rat or mouse. The critter sniffed the ground and the surrounding air before lumbering out into the open, seemingly oblivious of the mech. It looked mildly cute for such a furry thing, and its slight waddle added to the effect.

Shortstop glanced around to make sure no one watched–he'd been reprimanded a few times already for goofing around while on duty–and bent lower to examine the creature more closely. The small animal squeaked and jumped when the Autobot suddenly entered its vision and stomped its front feet, tail and body suddenly rigid. Shortstop blinked, not sure if it was a greeting or a warning. The animals of Earth generally liked him or didn't bother him, so he quickly dismissed the gesture as merely a signal of surprise.

He scooted closer, kneeling. That was the last straw for the squirrel-looking thing. It immediately turned and reared on its front legs, tail straight up. Before Shortstop could deduce what was happening he suddenly felt a fine mist squirt onto him. All he had to do was take in a little bit of air, and he instantly began gagging on the horrific smell. The animal escaped back into its woodland home as Shortstop sat back with a loud thud on the rock, trying to cough out the smell from his olfactory sensors and radioing for help.

In a few minutes Prowl and Optimus Prime came thundering out at the rookie's frantic hail, both stopping short when the smell also hit them. They smartly shut off their own olfactory sensors and approached Shortstop, who still flailed and gagged and made disgusted grunts at the odor still hanging in the air.

"Shortstop, shut off your olfactory sensors," Prowl calmly commanded, easily keeping his face stoic. Shortstop finally got smart and did as told, grimacing when his sensors still registered the foreign substance each time he took in air. "Now, what happened?"

"I ... saw this furry animal that was all black with a white stripe on its back. I bent down to look at it and the fragger sprayed me with this _awful_-smelling stuff."

"Shortstop, that would be a skunk," Optimus calmly explained, smiling under his facemask. He remembered that time Hound accidentally ran over one such creature and ended up with the carcass stuck in his undercarriage. "They do that in self-defense."

"Primus, what's that _smell_?" Sideswipe asked, having followed the scent from the opposite side of the mountain. He saw disoriented Shortstop on the ground and asked, "What happened?"

"Skunk," he replied, glaring at the red Lambo when he burst out laughing.


	3. Naughty

0300 Pacific Standard Time on planet Earth, barely a mech in sight around the sleepy Ark, not counting the nightly sentry. Shortstop trudged his dirt-crusted chassis down the hallways to the nearest wash rack, glad for the late hour. At least he'd be able to shower in peace. He paused at the doorway for a long, tired sigh through his vents, then lifted his head. His emerald optics widened at the sight of a glistening, beautiful, completely unarmored form directly in front of him. He knew that frame, that strong and graceful build that downed him so many times in every training session.

Sideswipe continued to wipe the grime off his body, oblivious to Shortstop's presence. The rookie quietly, shyly stepped inside the room, taking off his own armor and watching the seasoned warrior bend down to replenish the cleaner on his wash rag. Shortstop had to turn away at the sight of that firm aft flashing in his direction, managing to slip on the floor and fall right onto his own skidplate.

"Ack!" Sideswipe turned to the cry, immediately laughing at the sight of a sheepish Shortstop sitting on the floor half-armored. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

"For once it wasn't induced by me. Now I _know_ you're a klutz." Shortstop almost disproved that statement, but decided the more sociable Twin didn't need to know. He quickly finished stripping, fumbling slightly with his own cleaning supplies in nervousness. He knew Sideswipe watched him. He could practically feel that mech's optical sensors roving down his entire build. "You know, your creator had the right idea to build you with a strong balanced frame like that." Shortstop mentally kicked himself. Of course Sideswipe would keep his comments strictly business, they were more or less student-and-teacher.

Trying to keep his voice from shaking Shortstop replied, "I guess. I never really thought about it." He made his way to the stall next to Sideswipe's so they could still talk, both of them able to see each other above the wall that separated each space. He found himself hating that barrier, wanting to gaze on Sideswipe's body more. He wanted to touch it, run his fingers all along the smooth lines and seams, tease his joints... Wait. Stop it. He couldn't think like that about one of his comrades, he _shouldn't_! Still, it was late, and no one would hear them.

"I ... I thought Sunstreaker would be with you," Shortstop finally said, trying to keep his faceplate from turning _too_ red.

"He's turned in already, but he refused to let me in until I cleaned up. After having more close encounters with Hazmat than he'd like, he's more dirt-paranoid than ever." He grinned at Shortstop's full laugh, then turned to rinse off. Shortstop realized he didn't have much time left. If he wanted to romp with Sideswipe he had to do something at that very moment. Without second-guessing himself, he stepped away from his stall and quietly slunk around the corner. Just as Sideswipe turned Shortstop wrapped his arms around the warrior, pressing his body close. "Aw, what's the matter?"

"Nothing." Shortstop planted a light kiss on Sideswipe's neck, white hands hungrily exploring every inch of pliable dermaplating. Sideswipe quietly chuckled to himself and leaned into the caresses.

"Why, Shorty, I had no idea you were so naughty." One arm reached around Shortstop's head and hugged it. Sideswipe moaned when he felt the rookie's hands tease the sensor clusters on his chest, tilting his head. He smiled when he received a soft kiss, letting the young mech have most of the fun.


	4. Transforming

Daylight from the bright summer sun almost blinded Shortstop, as he wasn't used to having a sun to light up his home planet of Cybertron. He grimaced as his optical sensors adjusted to the searing rays, trying to get his bearings and observe his surroundings. His unauthorized trip to Earth would be short-lived if he got caught by the planet's natives and taken into custody. If that happened he didn't have much chance contacting the Ark.

He immediately realized that his alien alternate vehicle mode would stick out like an unprotected signal beacon, so he resolved to quickly change to a more suitable disguise, something his size and something local. He checked over his crashed ship again, attempting to run a system diagnostic. It failed to boot up, but upon a manual inspection he found the instruments needed to modify his form still functioned. Radar was down, so was all communication, and power was almost completely drained. He couldn't come back to the shuttle again even if he wanted to. Without proper parts to repair it the metal hunk would prove useless on Earth. Instead Shortstop gathered what Energon he had left in the stores into a single container and checked once more for a passable vehicle.

Shortstop blinked at a rather colorful and long vehicle rolling its way down the two-lane road in front of him, the words "TRAINING BUS" displayed in a bright orange marquee on the side and the front. The thing was huge compared to the other mobiles on the street, but the perfect size for a mech of his build. He wasted no time in feeding the image and data through a direct link from his own databanks, firing up the equipment and using the last of the ship's power to modify his body.

Just a few breems later Shortstop stepped out of his crashed vessel, new chassis gleaming in the foreign sunlight. He quickly took a visual scan for enemies, then deemed it safe to move out. His legs twisted and came together, feet and ankles compressing into the engine. As the rest of his body came down his upper legs compressed into his lower legs, his thighs splitting apart to reveal a blue metal floor and blue seats for the interior of the rear half. His upper arms disappeared into the lower arms and split the same way to form more of the interior. His hands disappeared into the other side of his forearms, which then simply locked into place with the his lower legs and revealed the rear door, shoulders following suit to form the front door. Finally his head disappeared into the roof while his chest came down and shifted backwards to lock with his shoulders. His Autobot insignia blocked what would be the driver's window. Six tires, two in front of two pairs in back, rested on the ground and the air brakes gave off a loud _HISS_.

Where there once stood a 35-foot tall alien mechanoid now sat one of San Antonio's very own VIA metropolitan buses. The bright orange marquee lit up with the words "TRAINING BUS", and Shortstop slowly rolled his way to the nearest road.


	5. Horny

Note: Freelance is Tai's original character, used with permission.

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Shortstop dropped his forehead onto the desk with a clunk, narrowly missing the datapad. Stupid report. He never liked doing them because they took so long and there were always little details he remembered after he turned one in, and updating was always such a hassle. There were many other things he preferred to take up his time, especially now that he recently bonded.

Ah, Freelance. Others would assert that the femme was far from a model beauty, but he couldn't help but be attracted to her. After their first real conversation his fuel pump always beat faster when she passed near, and his spark seemed to want to leap right from its chamber. He wanted her in every way possible, interfacing included, and just a few weeks ago he got his wish.

Shortstop smiled at the memory of their bonding night. Her body felt so hot when he touched it, and her sensitive spots seemed to be everywhere on her plating, especially on her kibble near the joints and on the front of her helmet. He kissed anywhere he could reach, silently guiding her own fumbling and trembling hands as his half-armored body enveloped her. Her softer dermaplating felt heavenly against his own, the silky texture increasing his desire.

"Ah..." he sighed to himself, leaning back in his chair with one hand over his codpiece. His interface strained against the protective metal, his vents working a little harder and his face flushed a slight pink from the fresh images. He rubbed over his hidden bulge, whispering his bondmate's name. He wanted to touch her in the best places again, needed her feel her fingers teasing his own sensors. He idly wondered about trying that position the humans called The 69, shivering at the fantasy image of Freelance's rear in his face and dripping wet with lubrication as they pleasured each other. "Ooh..."

"Uh ... have I come at a bad time?" asked a familiar voice. Shortstop blinked and tilted his head back far enough to spot Freelance directly behind him, albeit upside down. _Just the one I wanted to see._

He grinned and answered, "Of course not."

"Are you sure?" Freelance asked again, giving him a peculiar look and almost taking a step back. "I don't want to interrupt anything private."

"Oh, it wasn't exactly private, just one-sided." His sultry tone and the implications of his statement caused the femme to blush furiously. Shortstop chuckled, then stood up from the chair and pulled his bondmate close. Freelance instantly sensed his extra heat and mumbled shyly to herself.

"Sh-Shortstop...!" she managed, bringing her palms against his chest. "I swear, you..." He didn't say another word, relishing Freelance's half-surprised half-pleased squeak once he pushed her down onto the berth.


End file.
